The Boy Who Would Be King

Chapter 10

Ellis

There is nothing I want more right now than the presence of my grandmother.

I want her to whisper in my ears that it's going to be all right- all of it. I want her to hush me like a baby and wipe the tears from my eyes.

Instead, I have Grandfather, who is doing is his best to stay strong for me. He's crying, but he's squeezing my hand so I know that he's there with me.

He keeps telling me- reassuring me- that help will be here soon, but it feels like it's been days and I've been lying on my side in pain and tears.

Outside, the sun peeks up above the horizon, dotting the sky with orange, yellow, and pink. I've never seen an uglier sunset in my life. It looks like someone vomited across the sky, and I'm reminded of that bile in my throat again.

The pain is excruciating. Something is happening to me. This isn't a sickness, at least I've never heard of anything like this.

My head feels as if there is a woodpecker drilling into the side of it. Everything around me progressively gets louder and then backs down almost to a soft whisper. It makes my ears rumble so much that I pray to go deaf.

I'm having one of those cycles again, where my hearing is getting progressively louder. Down below I hear something. Like whoops and hollars; people maybe. I hear rustling, too.

I open my eyes. Grandfather faces me, blurry tears streaming down his face. With his other hand he clutches my cheek, holding me close.

"Ellis," he whispers softly, but in my ears it sounds like a monstrous shout and I wince.

My throat burns. Coughs rumble at the back of my throat and deep into my chest. I want to hold them back.

But I can't, something else is happening to me, too.

It starts in my wrists and my ankles. At first they're just stiff, and I move them back and forth in a circular motion trying to get my blood flowing. Then they start cracking on their own, making me cry out again.

I cough up again, my own, thick, warm blood running down my chin and even splattering onto my grandfather's face.

There is more rustling down below, even shouts. It must be the paramedics. It certainly took them long enough. I know I'm not mistaken that someone is here, because Grandfather turns his head as well, although he can't see outside and he doesn't want to leave me.

I roll back against the wall again, this time clutching my leg and screaming out in agony. It feels like my bones are moving back and forth, snapping and cracking like rice crispy treats when you pour milk on them.

The pain is too much. I don't think I'm going to make it.

I'm sorry.

Before I close my eyes for good, I give Grandfather's hand one last squeeze and try not to look into his saddened blue eyes.